Devil in Texass(59)

stomach churn.

“How’s the food served for this hoe-down?”

He laughed. “I just set the aluminum containers on top of the stove, put the plates

and forks out and let ‘em have at it.”

“Hmm.” Not very civilized for “Ladies Who Lunch”.

Seemed to her the women who belonged to the Junior League would prefer a more

elegant luncheon—and venue. But Liza had to make do with the tools in her toolbox.

“You can help yourself to anything you want,” Sean said, as though he could see

her brain whirling with possibilities for sprucing up this shindig. “There’s some stuff packed away in the cupboards and storage room—all left over from parties when we

rent out the hall.”

This made her ears perk up. “Really? I can poke around and use whatever I want?”

“Knock your socks off,” he said. “Just check the expiration date on anything edible.

No telling how long it’s been tucked away.”

“Good tip,” she said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Sure. I’ll be in here watching the chicken crisp.”

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“Don’t let it burn.”

She left the kitchen and returned to the dismal meeting room. Surveying the space

she had to work with, she realized she could just throw the tablecloth over the table, set the folded napkins at every place setting, put out the flowers and be done with it.

But that really wasn’t her style.

Consulting her watch, Liza was a little anxious to know she only had an hour left

before the ladies would arrive. Less time before Jess would get here.

She really didn’t want to disappoint her new boss. Underachieving wasn’t exactly

in her blood. And, admittedly, she wanted to impress Jess and confirm that hiring her was a good decision.

Wrapping orchids in foil may not be Liza’s forte, but impromptu parties were. And

having worked in the stressful field of PR, where every event, press conference and

speech could make or break a company’s reputation, she was the epitome of grace

under pressure.

She went to work, starting with the table. Clearing it, she spread the white linen

cloth over it from end to end, covering the hideous gray plastic. Then she retrieved the chipped white plates from the kitchen and set them in front of every chair. Rooting

around in the kitchen drawers didn’t help her to find anything useful with which to

fashion napkin holders. Frowning and tapping her foot on the scuffed linoleum floor,

she debated her options. Sean watched with curiosity in his dark brown eyes.

“Aha,” she muttered to herself as an idea formed in her head. “Scissors?” she asked.

He dug out a pair from a drawer and handed them over.

Back in the meeting room, Liza removed one of the bright yellow satin bows from

an orchid pot and turned it into thirteen long, thin ribbons. Folding the napkins so they looked like fans—apropos for southern belles in the summer heat, she thought—she

wrapped the ribbon around their bases and tied them in bows. With the scissors, she

lightly curled the ends of the ribbon, giving them an elegant, yet dainty touch. She

placed an adorned fan-napkin in the center of every plate, then added the mismatched

flatware in formal fashion.

Jess’ centerpieces were beautiful arrangements, with flowers and greenery that

covered low-arching metal frames. The blooms were held in place by the foam built into the framework. Greenery wound around the metal, concealing it, and other buds filled

the inner part of the piece. One elegant yellow rose—surrounded by what Liza actually knew to be bluebonnet, the Texas state flower, thank you, Daddy!—served as the focal point in the middle of each arrangement. She stared at one of them for a few seconds, another great idea popping into her head.

She raced back to the kitchen, her time limited. “Votive holders and tea lights?” she asked Sean.

He frowned. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Little glass containers for little candles.”

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“Oh yeah, sure. Molly Barstow had her Sweet Sixteen birthday party here a couple

weeks ago and there were candles galore. She got away with all those open flames on

account of her daddy being the fire marshal.”

He disappeared for a few minutes while Liza went back to the meeting room.

Plucking the roses from the centers of the table arrangements, she carefully peeled off their velvety petals and scattered them around the table. She had a handful left over and considered where else they’d help to snazz up the room and make it a little more

elegant, more feminine.

Her gaze landed on the credenza against the far wall. It was framed on either side

by moose or elk heads. She couldn’t tell which, really. And there was nothing she could do about the hideous creatures, but…

She could turn the credenza into a buffet!

Setting aside the extra petals she’d use later, she accepted the seven votive holders Sean handed over.

“I’ll come back with the rest of the candles—tea lights?—and some matches,” he

said.

He took in her work thus far and nodded his head in apparent approval. As he

went off to get the candles, Liza reached for the scissors and cut holes into the middle of the foam forms in the floral arrangements. Just big enough for her to cram a votive

holder into each hole. Fluffing the greenery around the edges of the glass holders

helped to hide the foam again.

Sean came back with the tea lights and matches and she explained, “I’d like to bring

the food into the room. It’ll help to get rid of the musty smell in here.” And the faint scent of cigars that was making her a tiny bit nauseous.

“I’ve got some chafing dishes the Bains donated when they remodeled their kitchen

last fall.”

Liza cringed at the mention of that name and the thought of Lydia. “That’ll work,”

she hated to admit.

While Sean retrieved the food, she used large, white paper napkins to cover the

scarred credenza and then helped him set out the chafing dishes he’d piled high with

food. They placed small dishes next to each one and added the applicable serving

utensil.

“What about the bread?” he asked.

There was nothing fancy to put the rolls in. “Basket?”

He gave it some thought, as though searching the facility’s inventory in his head,

and then said, “Nope.”

“We’ll make our own.” She proceeded to show him how to make a bread warmer

from the two remaining linen napkins they had. She placed the rolls, tucked into their little cocoons, at opposite ends of the table, so they could be passed along with the 150